You could be vaccinating felines for a year at an animal shelter and still not hear the word "pussy" as much as you do in the first half hour of Entourage
. This expansion of the HBO TV series appears to have been conceived by a gaggle of misogynistic, beer-chugging adolescent virgins who brag about getting laid, but the closest they've ever gotten is a Playboy centerfold bespattered with cream of mushroom soup that they rescued from the city dump.
To be fair, I have never viewed any episode of this series that I thought was supposed to be a tongue-in-cheek inside gander at Hollywood. Instead, what we have here is a glorified daydream of the male need to copulate with any orifice within five inches of his zipper. Make that four inches.
Directed and written with unflinching ineptitude and fetid taste by the series' executive producer Doug Ellin
, the film is basically plotless.